


Rowena's Dungeon of Laughter

by FeatherHeart22



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dungeon, Enochian Handcuffs (Supernatural), Feet, Non-Consensual Tickling, RACK - Freeform, Stocks, Tickling, Torture, underarms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-25
Updated: 2020-06-25
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:15:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24910693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FeatherHeart22/pseuds/FeatherHeart22
Summary: Rowena kidnaps and tickle tortures Castiel to obtain a magical ingredient.I wrote this story with my girlfriend after we agreed Rowena would likely be an incredible tickler.
Relationships: Rowena MacLeod/Castiel
Comments: 4
Kudos: 21





	Rowena's Dungeon of Laughter

## F/M ● Angel Tickling ● Feet and Upper Body

**◄●►**

Castiel slowly opens his eyes.  
“Where am I?” The angel asks no one in particular.

Something moves to his left. As he focuses his vision, the angel realizes he's not alone.  
“Rowena? What’s the meaning of this?” He growls.  
“Just you relax, little angel. I’m not going to hurt you.” Rowena says in her cute Scottish accent. The pale, redhead beauty is sitting on a chair to his left, smiling down on him. 

Castiel looks around, examining his predicament. He’s been stripped down to his underwear and stretched taut in a medieval rack. His wrists are enclosed by padded metal cuffs engraved with enochian runes. These are then connected by chains to the pulley mechanism at the head of the torture device. On the opposite end, his ankles are locked in a set of stocks. Similarly to his wrists, the holes for the ankles are padded and the stocks are decorated with more enochian symbols.  
The room itself appears to be a castle’s dungeon. The walls and ceiling are made of ancient stone. He notices they are also covered in runes, but not just enochian. This medieval setting is betrayed by the glowing electrical lamps set up where wall sconces used to be.  
“I somehow find that hard to believe.” He remarks.

The angel calls upon his angelic grace, attempting to break free. To his dismay, the enochian runes around his wrists and ankles begin to glow, countering whatever magical strength he musters. As he relaxes, the runes gradually cease to glow.  
“Did you really think that was going to work?” Rowena asks with a mocking smirk.  
“Where are we?”  
“Back home. We’re in a safehouse of mine, back in Scotland. Millennia ago this used to be a castle’s basement. The castle is almost entirely gone, but not the cellars.”  
“Do you really think you’re going to get away with this? The Winchesters will find me...”  
“The Winchesters won’t ever know about this.” She interrupts. “Because one, you are never going to tell them. Two, you are only going to be here for a few days, and three, like I said, I’m not going to hurt you.”  
“Why are you so sure I’m not going to tell them?”  
“Oh trust me, your pride will NEVER allow you to tell anyone about this little misadventure.”  
“Rowena. Why. Am. I. Here?” He growls.  
“All business are we? Alrightly! Let’s get this show going!” The witch throws her hands in the air and rolls her eyes, yielding to the angels impatience.  
  
There is a small wheeled table in the corner of the room. The witch moves it next to Castiel. There are many seemingly random items cramming the table, the biggest of which is a bowl of about 20 cm diameter. Castiel looks puzzled at the other items. Feathers, backscratchers, a small vial, hairbrushes, combs, small paint brushes, several spider sculptures, a pair of gloves, even a couple electric toothbrushes!  
  
The witch picks up the bowl and holds it over the helpless angel, uttering some unknown words towards it. The bowl’s engraved decorations light up in red, revealing several patterns with flowing feathers. She then returns the bowl to the table and picks up a fluffy plume instead.  
“Castiel… did you know some spells require liquid laughter as an ingredient?” She asks, testing the feather against the palm of her hand.  
“No. Never heard of that before.”  
“I’m not surprised. Until a few months ago I had no idea myself. Until I came upon a tiny handwritten spellbook explaining how it works.”  
  
As she speaks, she drags the feather across Castiel’s neck, causing him to smile and close down his chin. The witch smiles, pulling away the feather before he can trap it. Castiel seems quite confused with his own reaction.  
“There are several spells in that book I’d like to try, but to do that I need some of that liquid laughter. I need quite a lot of it actually.” She says, looking at several 5 liter plastic bottles lined up against a wall.  
“Can you guess how I’m going to get it?” She whispers, smiling wickedly.  
“Erm… I… angels aren’t ticklish.” He states, trying to sound certain.  
“No. They aren’t. But their vessels are a different matter.” She says, now dragging the plume across his belly. Castiel jerks, causing the enochian runes to briefly glow.  
“Ohhhhh seems like I picked the right victim!” She excitedly remarks. “If that silly little feather can get a reaction, wait till we try these.”

The witch wiggles her fingernails above Castiel, who’s not sure how afraid he should be. She’s right. His vessel, Jimmy, is extremely ticklish. But it’s only tickling! It’s a childish thing! Not to mention…  
“How is this possible? I shouldn’t be affected by these touches, like I shouldn’t be affected by human pain.”  
“That’be because of the symbols on your manacles and stocks. They siphon the power of your grace, stripping away your super-human strength. As well as your ability to ignore your vessel’s nervous system.”  
“Why me? Why go to all this trouble? Surely there are easier targets.” He asks.  
“Well suuuure… I could have picked up any delicate lass from the closest town… but why would I want that when I can have an angel? The liquid I can get from you is going to be strengthened by your grace! It will be a far more potent reagent that any human could provide! And also, no human could ever compare when it comes to endurance. I can put you through hours upon hours of the most intense tickling and you will NEVER faint, require water, sustenance, or even a bathroom break.”

As she says this, she leans in close and accidentally touches one of his underarms with her fingernails. The angel closes his hand into a fist and attempts to lower his arm. The runes around his wrists begin to glow as he attempts to hide a smile.  
“Tehehehehe.” He giggles through his teeth.

The witch bites her lower lip, very satisfied with her choice of victim.  
“And it wasn’t that much trouble! I borrowed the manacles from my son. All I had to do was duplicate their symbols on the stocks. And the wards on the walls were already there... But enough chit chat! You have a lot of laughing ahead of you, so let’s get started!”

Rowena sits on the rack next to the angel's belly. Castiel looks straight up, trying his best to appear indifferent. The witch begins by slowly spidering on both sides of his belly. Castiel jerks the moment her nails make contact. Despite his best efforts, a stream of giggles begins to flow through his clenched teeth.  
“Teehehehehe… mrrrg… Teehehehehe…”

Rowena spiders through his ribs, heading to his armpits. The angel's composure starts to crumble as she silently counts them on her way up. The witch is delighted to see Castiel close his eyes and focus on his breathing, trying to ignore the alien, tickly sensations. As her spidering hands touch the lower border of his underarms, the angel erupts with giggles, unable to hold it in anymore.  
“Just let it all out, feather boy. It's pointless to resist.”

The witch tickles all around his armpits, watching Castiel’s will erode with every touch. After a few minutes, she decides to put him out of his misery. She stops tickling for a moment, and then suddenly spiders right in the middle of his smooth underarms. With a painful expression, the angel erupts into beautiful laughter.  
“... nooonoooNOOHOHOHO BWAAAHAHAHA!”

Rowena keeps on tickling as a few drops of liquid form on the sides of the bowl and stream down to the bottom.  
“It's working! And look at how clear it is!” She exclaims. “It's fully transparent with… rainbow reflections. Such purity is not even described in the book…”

She looks down greedily at the laughing angel and says: “Oh my feathered friend, you're going to fill those up and then some… “ Referring to the bottles against the wall.

The witch's well manicured nails keep on spidering under his struggling arms. As the minutes go by, she starts experimenting with other motions and techniques. She rakes, teases, pinches, pokes, draws circles and squiggly lines… Rowena is quite the natural tickler. She’s creative, sadistic and playful.  
Right now she’s happily squeezing the breast muscles on the inner edge of Castiel’s armpits. The angel is almost screaming with laughter, shaking his head and trying to roll from side to side. His hands are closed into fists. Beneath them, the cuffs symbols glow brightly. His muscled arms jerk and strain in fruitless attempts to pull down and protect the ticklish skin from this abuse.

Over the next fifteen minutes, the witch expands to the rest of his upper body. Her wicked nails explore and torment every bit of skin, greatly focusing on the worst spots she can find until boredom prompts her to stop. Castiel hardly needs a moment to regain his composure.  
“So how did you like it? This is your first time being tickled I believe?”  
“I can take it. I can take it just fine. I just… I can’t seem to control this laughter...”  
“Oh good. That’s just fine. Laughter is just what I need. I’m not trying to break you or anything. Now, let’s take a look at these feeties.”

Rowena gets up and walks to the stocks, sitting down on a chair right in front of Castiel’s feet. The witch examines them, marveling at how exquisitely soft and tender they look. As she caresses down his left sole with her hand, his toes scrunch down in response. Castiel’s feet are size 44 EU. Average size for men, with a little bit of extra width. They feel slightly squishy when she touches them. Pleasant tan color. No smell. And best of all, they feel velvet smooth.  
“Well well… I guess having grace inside ya is just as good as a pedicure. It makes sense… healing magic restores flesh to it’s pristine condition. Skin included.”

The witch drags her nails down Castiel’s soles, causing them to scrunch and squirm away. Behind them, the symbols on the stocks light up brightly. Rowena’s hands pursue his fleeing feet, spidering, raking and teasing them no matter what.  
Castiel can't help but laugh out loud from almost the first moment the tickling begins. Both manacles and stocks glow as he struggles against his bondage. It would seem Jimmy's feet are very, very ticklish. Rowena mercilessly exploits this advantage, digging and digging into his plush soles with her wicked fingernails.  
“Tickle tickle tickle… Who's a ticklish angel? Who's a ticklish angel? You are Cassie! You are! Gouchie gouchie goooo… “ She cues and taunts.  
"... HOHOHOOO! MWAAAHAHAHAHA! HEHEHEHEHEHEEEEEE!" He laughs uncontrollably.

Ten minutes later, she notices the bowl is nearly full! Castiel’s feet get a break while the witch empties the liquid into one of the bottles.  
“A very promising start!” She exclaims. “But I need you to laugh harder, and for longer. Otherwise this will take a week… So let's step it up a notch, shall we?”

Rowena fetches two stiff feathers and starts wiggling them around the border of the angel's armpits. As she does this, she mumbles the words of a spell.  
Castiel starts to laugh. At the beginning he may have resisted, but now that the floodgates are open, he can't help himself. The helpless angel laughs freely and heartily with his eyes closed. Soon he opens them, noticing something strange. Rowena is picking up more objects from the table, yet the feathers are still tickling him!  
“... HAHAHAHA what? Hehehehe how? Hehehe…” He asks.  
“Oh, just a little enchantment dearie. Don't you worry about a thing.”

Rowena then places two small spider figurines on his armpits. Castiel’s laughter spikes as the spiders come to life, scrambling and digging into his exposed hollows.  
“BWAAAHAHAHA! MRRRRGGGH! HAHAHAHA!” He explodes, his restraints glowing brightly.  
“Good to know those work.” She says with a sadistic smile. “You're lucky I only have a couple. What other toys can I fix you up with?”

Rowena browses the selection of tickle toys on the table. She picks up a small feather and brings it to his bellybutton. She spins it around, tickling the skin inside. A few magic words later and the feather is tickling all by itself. Castiel’s laughter remains unchanged but his struggling intensifies. The witch then takes a pair of gloves and puts them to work on his ribs, poking each and every one. Using the same magic as before, the gloves soon become fully autonomous.

Satisfied with Castiel’s upper body torment, Rowena grabs a few more toys and returns to his soft feet. With a spell, she pulls back his toes and renders his squirming soles taut. Meanwhile, Castiel's going nuts from the upperbody tickling alone! His cuffs glow brightly as the ticklish angel furiously struggles to escape. He's laughing hysterically now. The combined tickling he’s receiving is more than enough to defeat his self control.  
“BWAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAA HAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAA!” He screams with insane laughter. His face is a grimace of ticklish agony. He’s throwing his body but mostly his head from side to side, trying both to set himself free and to gain a small measure of distraction from the intense tickling. And it’s about to get worse.

Rowena picks up two feathers and proceeds to drag them through his toes, teasing the super sensitive, helpless skin between them. She does this for a while, eventually switching to the electric toothbrushes. Their spinning bristles do a far better job than the feathers did, causing his toes to strain against their invisible bondage. A few minutes later, she leaves the brushes to tickle all by themselves.

Castiel’s laughter rises to new heights as her fingernails drag over his taut, helpless soles. The witch's wicked nails leave short lived red lines as they rake down his feet.  
“This is quite fun!” She gleefully remarks. “Isn’t this fun Castiel? HAHAHAHA! Such soft, ticklish feet… Suffering so badly all because of my wee little nails… Tickle tickle tickle! Scratchy scratchy scratchy! HAHAHAHA!”

She spends about 10 minutes tickling his captive feet with her nails, wildly amused by the angel’s hysterical laughter and his glorious, plush soles, suffering under her fingertips. Rowena suddenly notices the bowl is slightly overflowing. She runs to it and quickly dumps it's contents into a bottle. The witch leaves the room for a moment and returns with a funnel and a sort of raiser. She sets the funnel on the mouth of the bottle, and places the raiser between the funnel and the bowl. The idea is to allow the bowl to overflow into the bottle.  
“There. That should settle that.”

She then returns to Castiel’s feet and starts viciously tickling them with the back scratchers. The angel releases a great cry of ticklish agony, ensuring Rowena would grant him no mercy whatsoever.  
“MRRRRGGGGG BWAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHA STOP STOP STOOOAP HAHAHAHAHA!”  
“Well well… What’s the matter? Can’t the mighty soldier take a bit of tickling?” She asks with an evil smile. She spends 5 minutes raking his helpless soles before also delegating the task to her magic.

Rowena looks pensive over Castiel, who’s laughing hysterically from all the tickle tools working on him. His arms struggle violently, trying with all their earthly might to break free. Of all the implements, the spiders are the worst. Their little legs incessantly poke and spider the immensely ticklish skin under his arms. The back scratchers are a close second. His feet would be squirming like mad if not for the bondage keeping them utterly still and helplessly exposed to their maddening scratches.

The symbols covering the manacles and stocks glow brightly, nullifying his angelic magic. All Castiel can really do is to cackle like a lunatic and endure as his vessel’s body is tickled to it’s limit.  
“At this rate, the first bottle should be full in less than an hour.” She thinks.

She sits by his waist and gently addresses him.  
“Alright my lovely, I’ll leave you for about an hour. Don’t you worry, if you keep laughing like this we’ll be done in less than a day.”

The beautiful witch walks away, stopping just before closing the door to add: “Have fun! Hahahaha!”  
“NOOOHOHOHOHOHOOOO DON’T LEAVEEE HEHEHEHEHE MEEE LIKE THISHIHIHI BWAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAA!” Castiel pleads as he’s left all alone.

True to her word, the witch comes back after one hour to move the overflowing funnel to another bottle. And then another, and another, and another… Every once in a while she feels like taking over, submitting his underarms or feet to her nails once again. After 6 hours of constant tickle torture, Castiel is a mess. He’s pleading and begging her whenever she’s present for reprieve from the maddening, alien sensations.

Rowena is moving the funnel to a new bottle when an evil thought crosses her mind. She has no idea if this will work, but sadistic curiosity compels her to try. She fetches a spellbook from another room and peruses it, looking for a very specific spell. Castiel hardly notices her casting it, but he does notice it when his wings become visible, yet still mostly immaterial. By twisting an enochian spell, the industrious witch manages to take control of the angel’s wings! She then forces them to bend inwards and mechanically drag their feathers against Castiel’s armpits and sides.

The angel's eyes all but burst out of his head! He goes into silent laughing for a few seconds, before exploding into the most hysterical, crazed, desperate laughter he has released yet. His feathers feel impossibly tickly. Their complexity goes far beyond the feathers of any mortal creature. Not to mention they are partially immaterial. He can feel their horribly ticklish touches against his skin, but also against the nerves deep under his skin.

Castiel forces himself to look towards Rowena. His laughter is so intense, it leaves him incapable of forming words. But his eyes say it all. He desperately needs it to stop. This childish torture has become truly unbearable.  
Rowena only smiles and says: “Well, that should save us a couple hours. Three or four more and you are free to go!”

Her words cause poor Castiel to go completely berserk, struggling against his bondage with renewed fierceness. His face is contorted in a grimace of complete ticklish despair. Unfortunately, his struggling does nothing to stop or even mitigate the tickling torture.  
“I’ll be back in 30 minutes. You know, you should feel quite lucky those wings can’t reach your feet. See you soon!” Rowena says, right before shutting the door behind her.

## FIN

**Note:**

Originally posted on DeviantArt.

https://www.deviantart.com/featherheart22/art/Rowena-s-Dungeon-of-Laughter-f-m-tickling-799131820


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